


Invisible Saviour

by contagious_queer



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Aftermath, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Bilbo Baggins Saves the Day, Eventual Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Hurt/Comfort, King Thorin, M/M, Post-Battle of Five Armies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-24 02:41:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30065421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contagious_queer/pseuds/contagious_queer
Summary: The Battle has began, and Thorin has just sent his nephews to scout the tower at Ravenhill. Then, an invisible Savior arrives, and the fate of the three Durins are greatly changed.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	1. The battle

**Author's Note:**

> An alternative ending to BOFTA I came up with in the middle of class. The grief we feel at the end of The Hobbit is just unnecessary.  
> This story will follow a mix of the book and movie story-lines.

**CHAPTER 1: The Battle**

Thorin was standing with Dwalin at Ravenhill, waiting for his nephews’ report on the tower when Bilbo suddenly popped out of thin air, gasping for air. “Thorin!” he cried. “Bilbo!” he replied in shock of seeing the hobbit he had so utterly betrayed. He took a step in his direction, his heart clenching painfully thinking of what he grievance he had caused the burglar, who still showed his loyalty and bravery by standing in the middle of a war he should not be a part of. He wished immensely that the hobbit had not been on the battlefield, and rather had left as Thorin in his madness had demanded.

He opened his mouth to express this to him, when Bilbo cut him off before any word could escape him. “Now is not the time, you need to get out of here. It’s a trap, the orcs have another army coming up from the north.” Hearing that, Thorin heart stopped, as he turned towards the tower, “Fili and Kili!”. He is about to run towards the tower when Bilbo stops him. He throws the mithril shirt at him, “Put this on, you will need it more than me facing their leader, and before you say no, I will stay invisible. Stay here, I will get the boys.” Then he disappears before Thorin can even try to stop him.

He looks down at the mithril in his hands. “Do not be foolish, do as he said”, Dwalin tells him, showing again how well he knows his friend. He nods and pulls on the shirt, it is a bit tight, but not restrictive. They start moving towards the tower but is immediately stopped by the sounds of drums coming from the tower.  
Azog steps forward at the top of the tower, followed by multiple orcs, facing him and Dwalin with a gruesome smirk. However, that is not what makes Thorin’s heart stop. No, it is the sight of his oldest nephew being dragged by him. He lifts his nephew up in the air in front of him, holding him over the edge.

Fili, brave as he has always been, spends what would be his last moments telling his uncle not to listen to the pale goblin, and giving him a look that told him he loved him. Then Azog raises his blade to impale the young dwarf and Thorin feels utterly helpless. Holding his breath, he catches his nephew’s eyes in a desperate attempt of showing him how proud he is of him, as well as how much he loves him. His eyes showing the sorrow and regret of having caused this.

Then Azog moves his blade towards the blond dwarf’s chest. However, in the moment before it hits its target, Azogs movement abruptly stops, as he lets out a pained shriek. He drops Fili, who just manages not to fall over the edge of the tower. Azog grabs the back of his shoulder, which is dripping in blood as Thorin realises that his Burglar has made it just in time. That his Burglar’s so-called “letter-opener” is what has caused Azog’s wound. He watches as his nephew is dragged by the invisible force to the drop on the left side of the tower, where the stairs go just two meters below.

All the goblins, who has been too caught-off guard to move, is brought back to reality by their leaders’ angry roar. At once, all the orcs start rushing after them. However, the dwarf and the invisible hobbit has already jumped down and is hurrying down the stairs.

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Bilbo’s adrenaline is rushing. He cannot believe he managed to get Fili out of the pale orcs’ hands, and away from the top of the tower. Together they cut down the surprised orcs they meet on the way down. It is not an easy task with only Fili’s knives and as well as his tiny sword, but they fortunately still manage to move forward quickly.  
When they come close to the bottom, they meet a wide-eyed Kili, who had been rushing up towards his brother. Bilbo takes a hold of the dark-haired Durin and drags him along. Swiftly they move away, with orcs still yelling behind them.

As they put some distance between them and the tower, they meet a concerned Dwalin, ready to help cut down the orcs following them. More and more orcs arrive, but not too many for the four of them. Especially since they cannot see Bilbo. He might not be the best fighter, but not being seen is certainly a huge aid in defeating the goblins. Even though it does come with receiving small cuts or blows as unknowing orcs bump into him. A few months ago, that would certainly have been a hindrance in his performance, but in this moment his adrenaline was stopping him from feeling it at all amid the battle.

In mere minutes, the mass of orcs lessens to only a few. He takes this moment to question Dwalin on the dwarf king’s whereabouts. The tall dwarf points west, “We split up to get here”. Bilbo is about to run in the direction when a dozen more orcs arrive. Not too many for Dwalin and the princes to manage. However, when Bilbo notices the orc with the bow, arrow pointed at Dwalin, who is busy fighting off three orcs at once, he makes a quick de-turn. He crashes into Dwalins side, putting himself between the dwarf and the arrow about to pierce his chest.

Bilbo lets out a pained yelp as the arrow pierces his shoulder. Dwalin cuts down the remainder of the close-by orcs and yells “Burglar?!”. “M’fine,” Bilbo replies breathlessly, “Going to look for him”, he says. Dwalin nods before taking on more orcs.

Ignoring the shooting pain in his shoulder he runs towards the west. He runs past elves fighting some orcs when his world suddenly goes black. Moments later his eyes open, his vision blurry. He sees the rock that had hit his head and knocked him out laying on the ground beside him. Groaning, he carefully sits up, dizziness making him nearly throw up. Lifting his arm he gently wipes some blood that has trailed down into his eyes on his sleeve. Looking down he notices that there is no longer a whole arrow sticking out from his shoulder. It must have broken in two as he fell, now only a quarter of it protruding from his shoulder. Winching, he slowly starts to get up. The pounding in his head resisting the movement. He must only have been unconscious for a few seconds he decides, looking at his surroundings.

Slowly he continues to make his way in the direction in which he hopes he will find Thorin. The dizziness slowing him down immensely. Not before reaching the edge of the ice-covered river does he see Thorin and the pale orc, mid-fight. He continues to make his way towards the fight when the dwarf throws the orcs heavy weapon at him and takes a step backwards. The orc disappears into the water, under the ice. Thorin’s form seems to follow the orc as it floats with the stream under the ice when he suddenly hunches over in pain. In the same moment, the orc jumps up through the ice, pushing the dwarf-king down with force, weapon pointed at his chest.

Panic rises in him as he sees Thorin struggle, using Orcrist to hold the pale orcs blade away from reaching his chest. Bilbo starts moving as fast as he can in his dizzy state towards the scene, but he is too far away. His heart stops as he sees Thorin move his sword away, giving Azog’s blade a clear path to his chest. As the blade hits, he hears a groan escape the king before he reaches up his own blade and pierce the pale orcs chest in return. Spinning them over, digging his blade deeper into the orcs chest until the blade goes through the ice beneath. As the orc goes limp, Thorin lets go and gets up. He walks a few steps away before he collapses.

Bilbo’s blood runs cold. “No, no, no” he thinks as he reaches the dwarf’s side at last. “Thorin!”, he pulls his ring off and throws himself on his knees at his side. Thorin looks up at him with concerned eyes, as though Bilbo was the one just getting stabbed. Bilbo looks at Thorin’s chest looking for any signs of blood, but there is none. Thorin gives him a small smile, “I will be fine, all thanks to you, master Burglar”. Then he reaches up, and pulls his shirt aside, giving the hobbit a view of his upper body. His upper body that is covered in Bilbo’s mithril shirt.

Bilbo lets out an audible sigh in relief and collapses at the dwarf’s side. Thorin was clearly wounded, but not mortally so. He would be alright. He would most definitely live, if no more orcs or alike would find him now. Tears wells up in his eyes, “stupid dwarf, could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he sniffles. A soft chuckle leaves the dwarf, as he turns his head to look at him.

Then his expression changes to concern as he takes in Bilbo’s state. “You are hurt”, he frowns. “Do not worry about me-“ he starts, but stops as Thorin shakes his head. “I am sorry, master Burglar, I would take back my words and my deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me. I was too blind to see it. I am so sorry that I have led you into such peril.” “No, I’m-I’m glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. And, it’s far more than ANY Baggins deserves.”, he shakes his head at the stubborn dwarf, wincing as his head protested the movement.

“You should not be in this situation. You should not be wounded on our behalf. You should be with your armchair… where you can plant your trees and watch them grow. If more people valued home above gold, this world would be a merrier place. I am sorry.”

Again, Bilbo can only shake his head. As the world around him starts to fade into blackness, he fights to stay conscious and murmurs “Silly dwarf…”. His eyes turn to the sky, “Look. The eagles are coming”, and then the world fades to black.

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	2. Stubborn dwarf

**CHAPTER 2: Stubborn dwarf**

When the world comes into focus again Bilbo is no longer on Ravenhill. The white roof of what seemed like a tent above him is the first thing that comes into view. Blinking, getting rid of the blurriness, he notices how utterly exhausted he is. His body feels way too heavy, his head alone feeling as though it would fall through the mattress beneath him.

Disoriented, he tries to remember why was he so exhausted? Oh, yes. Right. The battle, he recalled. What had happened again? The last thing he could remember was… he was with Thorin on Ravenhill. Thorin was wounded, but not dead… The eagles… But what then? He must have passed out, he thinks. But did the battle end? Was everyone alive? Where was he? All the questions that popped into his mind was making his head spin. An uncomfortable feeling of uncertainty bubbles up in his chest.

Mustering up all his strength, he turns his head to the side to get a view of his surroundings. He was indeed in a tent, and not alone. Óin is standing with his back turned to him, tending to a very alive Thorin, sitting up in a bed a few feet away. He lets out a huge sigh of relief. At the sound, Thorin’s head snaps his way, alarmed. When he sees Bilbo’s eyes staring back at him, he immediately moves to get up, but Óin quickly stops him. “You will not reverse my work by moving! Stay. Still.”. Thorin’s eyes does not move away from Bilbo’s however, as he calls out Bilbo’s name in his gruff voice.

Óin turns around, taking in Bilbo’s state of awareness. “Good to see you awake at last. You gave us all quite the scare for a while.”. Bilbo gives him a questioning look. “You have been unconscious for nearly a week,” The hobbit’s eyes widen. “You have been in and out of it a couple of times, however, I doubt you remember that as you were delirious with fever. Your fever finally broke a day ago, and hopefully it will not return.” Slowly Bilbo nods, taking in the information, wincing as his head protests the movement.

Eyeing Thorin again, scanning the dwarf King for injuries, he croaks out, “T-Thorin?”. His voice comes out hoarse, his throat feeling incredibly dry. Before the dwarf can reply for himself, Óin again takes the word. “Our king is fine. Cracked ribs that punctured one of his lungs, as well as some cuts and scrapes here and there, but nothing to worry about. I fixed the lung fairly easily, as well as dressed his wounds. His ribs will cause him discomfort in the upcoming weeks, but otherwise he will make a full recovery. I have ordered him to stay in bed, but as you see that is a much harder task then pulling his cracked ribs out of his lung,” the dwarf tells him, grumpily muttering “Mahal, help me, it’s like watching a dwarfling. Making my job harder”.

Thorin gives the other dwarf a sharp glare, before turning to Bilbo, eyes softening. “How are you feeling?”. Bilbo takes a moment to feel his body before replying, “Tired. Sore”. “Here, drink this. Then you can go back to sleep, master Baggins.” Óin holds a bottle to his lips. Wincing, he takes a few small sips of whatever the bottle contains. The fluid tastes horrible, but Bilbo is too tired to care. The content helps his dry throat, and that is enough. He barely manages to swallow before he is drifting off to sleep again.

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The next time he wakes, it is only him and Thorin in the tent. The dwarf is still sitting up on the bed, propped up on pillows. He has a book in his lap, which he seems to be reading with much interest. It takes a few minutes before he notices Bilbo’s eyes on him. “You’re awake!” he exclaims softly, before he quickly closes the book putting it down next to him on the bed. The hobbit slowly nods his head, noticing that though the pain is still there, it is more bearable than last time he was awake.

Thorin’s gaze is searching, probably scanning him for signs of pain, before he asks again, “How are you feeling?”. The dwarfs face is uncharacteristically soft. “Slightly better. More awake at least.”, his voice is still hoarse. He swallows, attempting to clear his throat, before asking, “What’s wrong with me? What happened after--”, his voice trails off. Thorin’s soft expression turns into an unreadable one.

“You nearly died…”, he says thickly. Then he sighs heavily and explains, “Dwalin found us on Ravenhill not long after you lost consciousness and with the help of the Eagle’s brought us down. The battle ended shortly after the eagle’s arrived. Leaderless, the orcs that were not killed, ran off. After we landed, I fell unconscious myself. They were still working on you when I woke up. You had a poisoned arrow deep in your shoulder, cuts and bruises on your legs and arms. A bigger cut on your torso. Not deep, but it had bled a lot. That one became infected, which with the poison from the arrow, caused the fever. Additionally, with the head injury which turned out to be a concussion, it did not look good for you…”

Bilbo frowns as Thorin continues, “With lucky help from one of those blasted elves, Thranduil’s son, they got the poison out of your system. The fever, however, did not go down. Almost killed you more than once…”. Taking a shaky breath, he adds, “I thought we were going to lose you.”. “But you didn’t,” Bilbo quickly says, offering the dwarf a tiny smile. “And thank Mahal for that,“ he sighs, “Your fever finally broke completely, and then you finally woke up this morning, not in a delirious feverish state.”

“I am sorry to have caused you such worry”, Bilbo whispers. Thorin gives him a sharp look, “Do _not_ apologise for anything, especially not something so silly. Without you my nephews, cousin and I would not be breathing. And even without all your heroic acts in counting, you will not apologise for getting hurt. I have led you into much peril, including this which ended in your injuries. It is I who should, and will, apologise.”

The hobbit shakes his head carefully at the overly dramatic dwarf, when he realises what he had said. Something he had not asked about yet, “The boys? They made it out?”. “Yes. All thanks to you. They are a bit roughed up, but they will make a full recovery in no time. Fili broke his wrist and received a blow to one of his legs, while Kili received an arrow to his upper arm, thankfully not poisoned, broke his nose, and cracked his forehead open. Otherwise they have some bruises and scratches, however they are up and about, back to acting like the fools they are,” the dwarf huffs as Bilbo smiles, a sense of relief washing over him. “They have been here everyday to check on both you and I since they left their own sickbed. Will probably come back in the morning. They were devastated when they came by earlier learning you had been awake when they were not here. We are the last ones ordered to stay in bed after Óin gave up on trying to keep my impossible nephews in bed.”

“Takes after their stubborn uncle”, Bilbo mutters, half teasing. Then he turns his head to view his bandage covered body, sucking in a sharp breath, wincing in the process, as his shoulder sends out a sharp jolt of pain. “Careful.” Thorin demands. Giving him yet another unreadable look, the stubborn dwarf starts moving to get up. “No, please do not get up. You will hurt yourself. Óin has told you to stay still in bed.” Thorin, however, just waves his hand at him dismissively. Not very kingly.

“Nonsense, I am well enough to move two meters.” Bilbo watches with a frown as the dwarf king picks up his book and slowly moves to the table next to his bed. From there he brings a bottle and a cup before sitting down in the chair next to Bilbo’s bed, wincing as he moves his ribs. “Impossible, stupid dwarf.” Bilbo glares. Thorin ignores him and motions to the glass and bottle in his hands. “Water and something for the pain. It is an herb-mixture from the elf-princeling. Óin has deemed it non-poisonous,”

He helps Bilbo consume both before leaning back in his seat. “I owe you my life and my kin’s as well. Everything I told you at Ravenhill is the truth. I am sorry for my deeds at the gate and will spend the rest of my life hoping that I someday can make up for it. I cannot express how thankful I am that you will recover from this. And you should know that you will always be welcome, and have a place in my kingdom, and while here you will want for nothing. But that is obvious, and it would be the least I could offer you after everything.”

“You were sick Thorin. Do not punish yourself for being sick. Rather, be proud that you shook it off. And yes, trust will have to be rebuilt on both of our sides. I know that even though you realise why I did what I did; I still went behind your back. Therefore, we both will have to put in work to restore what was lost. But I will tell you that no matter how long it takes, that it will happen, and we will hopefully come out stronger. I have forgiven you, you know. You have nothing to repay. I ask that you take my forgiveness so we can move forward instead of being stuck in the painful past.”

Thorin’s blue eyes finds his, searching for any sign of doubt, but seems to find none. “I do not deserve a friend like you, Bilbo Baggins. I will do anything to restore trust, and to keep and strengthen our friendship.” Bilbo can only smile at him. “You should rest some more. My nephews will be all over you tomorrow, and Mahal knows you’ll need some more strength for that.” He leaves no room for arguments, and as the hobbit’s eyes are already drooping, he knows the dwarf is right. Thorin refuses to get back into his own bed and continues to sit in the chair by Bilbo’s bed silently reading his book as his burglar falls into a deep slumber.

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End file.
